Bone Density

Lush and original, love this Bill

Strong piece, Bill. I really like the hard attention to the lines here - Wonderful sound:

"Madame Fauve,
with a twisted braid, is dancing. So is
the decadence in the wall. I applaud
the thoroughness of the measurers, but"

Especially liked CE's comments on the work. Thanks for the link.

This is excellent, Bill.

'I have an
appointment with deadness at 3 PM.'

'On the bulkhead of the horizon/
clouds collect, indifferently, like restaurant fish.'

Really, really nice.

May I just say, amongst solemn appreciation of art, that there is a sly humour at work in this poem, which I like! *.

I love these artists' pieces of yours, Bill.

Didn't know you played the pan pipe, Bill. You make us hear the music. Delightful.

Enjoyed this, and I'm with Sam on the sound. Lovely work.

Your poetry, in addition to artistic form, involves many levels of knowledge: which I enjoy reading and learning from. To me, this poem, 'Bone Density,' has its own crystal clear world within it, even without knowing the full significance of the Fauves, and the ending leaves me with the same sense of stark reality.

Interesting symmetry expressed in C. E. Chaffin's review:

Artists make death unwelcome and death makes artists unwelcome.

"Come to redesign
the patio, they have upstaged the heart."

"I have offended the sorcery of art."

Thanks for introducing us to the rich world of the Fauves. *

This is quite rich, Bill. Nice.

"ah liquidity!"

wonderful

Love this. I like the kind of annoyance that permeates this piece. As always, great job.

Extremely good writing, Bill.

.. Come to redesign
the patio, they have upstaged the heart..
Madame Fauve,
with a twisted braid, is dancing. So is
the decadence in the wall..these lines and so many others are thrilling creations to me, Bill.Everything here sings imaginatively. Brilliant stuff.

Madame Fauve, with a twisted braid, is dancing. So is
the decadence in the wall. << Love these lines. Love the entire poem, so lush, so dancing with decadence. Peace *

Great ending: "I have offended the sorcery of art. Ah, art!
Ah, liquidity! On the bulkhead of the horizon,
clouds collect, indifferently, like restaurant fish."

I like a poem that makes rooms, and this one does that. Stanza means "room." Poets already know that. I like the lines, too, such as the final one:

"On the bulkhead of the horizon,/clouds collect, indifferently, like restaurant fish."

*

Love it.

Wild and wonderful! Wow, Bill. Very, very cool.

leaves me with a gaping mouth like that fish. love this poem.

Wow, I liked this when I read it, then I liked it even more when I read Ann's comments. I love thinking about this in that way. What strikes me most is the removed mood of this whole piece, captured so well with that appointment with deadness and those indifferent clouds like the fish on restaurant walls. Wonderful collection of images here, even for those of us who are not so much poets.

Solemn gondoliers. Nice.

You know what Bill, I don't think I properly understand this yet, will have to come back later, but oh my word it got to me. Wow. The last line especially... big fave, Bill.

You too? Those damned magicky Fauves came aroud to my place, gondoliers and all, and I had to ask them to leave. They were too wild for me.
Lordy, this is good!

* You are great artist!
...and I am happy and proud my friend

Wow, this is really good! I love the last line.

"On the bulkhead of the horizon,
clouds collect, indifferently, like restaurant fish."

Beautiful...